The Harry Potter Phenomenon
by Aarie Granger
Summary: Dibbler bought the Harry Potter series in a shop, which wasn't there when he went back, so he gave it to William who printed it


Summary: It has come. Disclaimer: Discworld belongs to Terry Pratchett and Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. Credits to Jessica, who practically co-wrote this  
  
The Harry Potter Phenomenon.  
  
[The book that has swept the nations off their feet, and captured the imaginations of one and all.] William looked at what Sacharissa had just written, and then at Sacharissa herself, "Well, I don't quite think that it's." He shuffled uncomfortably, ". it's true. how do you know that? It's not." He searched for the words to explain  
  
Sacharissa chewed her lip slightly, inspecting her most recent piece of work shyly and uncertainly. "Er... do you think it... works, William?" She inquired, one hand rested on the desk to her left. Her usual strong-minded demeanor was hidden beneath her masque of uncertain quietness, quite a change for the respectable young lady.  
  
"Well, no." William fighting the balance between honesty and tactfulness, "It's..." He gave up, he should have seen it coming, true. But he never expected it would be so... successful. With perfect timing, as to avoid those nasty little loose ends that happen in worlds where Fate doesn't have a say, Gunnilla came up to him.  
  
"It's what, William?" Sacharissa asked, coming across a little more forcefully this time around. She scanned the piece again, shaking her head slightly. "The only thing I'm worried about is how... you know. the wizards and that'll react to it. I don't fancy spending the rest of my life as a toad. Or a smudge on a wall." With a small sigh, she turned to the dwarf by William's side. "What?" She asked, coming across a little more annoyed and exasperated than she had originally intended.  
  
"We've got more and more orders, everyone wants a copy." He stated, "I don't think there's time for the newspaper to be printed, if we're to fill our orders."  
  
William shook his hands in exasperation, "And we haven't even wrote it, and its just fiction!" He pointed accusingly at the original copies on his desk. "Why do people want it so much?"  
  
" I have no idea." Sacharissa replied; her annoyance replaced with weariness just as quickly as it had flared up. She opened the book to a random page and read a few words, then the rest of the page. Then she turned the page, but forced herself to drop the book. "It's rather addictive, if you notice? I mean... it's such a dull storyline, but you always want to know what happens next."  
  
He turned and stormed out of the door, unfortunately, the dramatic slam didn't come as the wood had swollen with rain, and instead he got a dull thump. "O gods!" he said to no one in particular. "It's not the truth, its just lies."  
  
Observing William's attempt at a dramatic departure, Sacharissa permitted herself to pick up the book again. "The characterisation's not even all that brilliant," she called out to him, "And yet you're so... drawn to them. This evil chap's quite interesting, really."Her gaze was again drawn to Gunnilla, and she lowered the book once more. "And you say we need to skip editions of the paper to provide everyone with a copy?" She considered this for a moment. "But the paper's what we do best. Can't we get another press?"  
  
"Well, yes, but then we might need more help." They sat down to discuss the details.  
  
The young lady paused to consider the options for a moment. "It's not as though we've had any shortage of prospective employees. We could take on a few extra staff. In the long run, we'd make more money from the books and the paper than we'd lose from all the extra wages... right?"  
  
* Outside, William looked around glumly, he wasn't quite sure where he was walking to, but he had heard it was a good idea, walking. Unfortunately he came across CMOT Dibbler. Despite the heavy rains that were falling, Throat Dibbler's sincere salesman grin was wider than ever as he approaches William. "Lovely day, isn't it?" He cheerfully offered by way of greeting. "I can't think of nothing better on a day like today than a nice book to read, 'm I right?"  
  
"Oh, that book again! Everyone loves it now. But I hate it, I heard these young children talking about how they wished they could go to Hogwarts and. The people in this place, I just want to forget it for a while forget it!" He began gently sobbing.  
  
Although a slight hint of awkwardness passed over Dibbler's features, it was quickly replaced by his usual wide, but above all, sincere grin again. "Don't worry about it. How long can the hype over one book last?"  
  
"It's not one book, that's the thing, there's supposed to be 7, only, we've only got 5 so what are we supposed to do? Write the last two ourselves?" Despair evident in his words "And then there's all those... Muggle inventions?" he was uncertain about that word, it was not, in his opinion a proper word, but it was one of the new lingo which came with it, "I heard a wizard saying that he would like to see a flying car, that he would like to MAKE one. Cars don't exist!"  
  
"Can't say the books are all bad." Dibbler replied easily, though what could be intended to be a comforting hand patted William's shoulder. "I mean, think of the profits..." Here, his voice turned somewhat dreamy at the thought of all the gold. Considering the man from whose mouth this is coming, this was most likely intended to be a huge reassurance, though in William's current state...Dibbler's eyes misted over slightly. "I've never seen so much money in one place..." He added softly. "It brings tears to my eyes, really it does, William."  
  
"So I can't give it up then, can I? I just wish, I was back printing 'The Times' that was real, even if it didn't last, and I get this weird feeling, the book was written by J.K Rowling, how come she hasn't come for her money?" He sighed, "With writing the glossary and forward, I haven't written a proper article in days. And anyone could write a book I'm sure, YOU could write a book, it's just a story, it isn't real." He buried his head in his hands "I'm going home"  
  
Still smiling, Dibbler put one arm around William's shoulders in a vaguely reassuring manner. "You can continue printing The Times, William - you don't mind if I call you William, do you?" He paused. "See, Will, the books are pulling in so much profit, aren't they? You can get someone to do all that sort of thing for you." He smiled both reassuringly and convincingly. "You can let me handle all that, Will, and do what you do best in peace." He offered his other hand in a gesture of business. "Deal?"  
  
Rather reluctantly, because it was Dibbler who had brought the books to him in the first place, William shook his hand, he then proceeded back to his lodgings where he fell asleep and dreamed of hippogriffs and big black hungry printing presses; Because that's the nature of these things.  
  
R&R! Please, Aariealka Fainalka. 


End file.
